Every Touch Tells a Story
by sleeptalker1
Summary: If I only have this time whilst she's my patient, then I'll make it count. Though yearning for more, I'll give her that lost time back, those lost memories. A love that will last, is a love that fights to be. Every touch will tell our story. AH ExB.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**

**My love & thanks goes to kewlwhip – if it weren't for her kicking my procrastinating ass & 'suggesting' US terms for certain words, I would not have this badboy to put out there in the world of sexin-up Mr. Cullen. Al****so to ****bellanoche0428 who ****pre-r****ead along with kewlwhip. Those twatterville girls who encouraged me with certain images – you know who you are – you know how to inspire me.**

**Disclaimer: As we ALL know, Twilight belongs to SM. I just own many things to do with Edward & Rob(we all need something pretty to look at) & the setting, plot, characteristics & history are also mine. **

**Rating: 'M'... if you're under 18, move along please. **

**This story contains adult themes of almost everything.**

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><p><strong>Every Touch Tells a Story<strong>

**Chapter One**

**Heavy Handed**

**EPOV**

_Mmmm._

She wiggles, just a little. I love it when she does this–whether she's awake or asleep. That wiggle is a move closer to me, into me. I've been dreaming of her, maybe she's been dreaming of me too. I smile inside at the thought of it, though I'm not sure if it forms on the outside as I'm so worn out I don't know if I can move much at all. Just the slightest movement from her though, and my body instantly reacts to her; moves to her. It's an automatic reaction that I have no control over. Why the fuck would I want to control it. It's perfect. It's right. It's us.

I'm stranded in that space in time where I'm rousing from my deep slumber but can't quite wake up. I'm exhausted, but want to spend as much time with her as possible, whilst I get the chance. I know that at some point one of us will have to rush off and be at a class, burying ourselves in research or me doing endless hours at the hospital. I've always known it would be worth it in the end though; I've always had faith in science. I knew that if I put in the hours and the hard work, that eventually my efforts would be rewarded. My parents taught me that. We just had to get through this tough time.

There's nothing in this world I love more than the feeling of Bella wrapped up in my arms in bed. She's squirming a little; probably dreaming again. I hold her closer, hoping the dream is just a sweet one, so that she may start mumbling my name like usual. To know that I'm in her dreams gives me even more confidence in myself, in us.

She starts rubbing her ass back and forth, grinding the juicy cheeks against me. I now know that I've got a smirk on my face, but I'm not quite awake enough to do anything else at the moment. _Wow, these hospital hours are __seriously kicking my ass. _I feel her lean forward a little, and then she slides her hand behind her and runs a finger and thumb along the length of my cock; squeezing as if to check it's hard enough. My girl knows she only has to wiggle that ass near me when I'm asleep, and I'm always ready for her no matter what. My hips thrust forward into her hand, into her. Her fingers move to my waistband and pull on the ties to my scrubs. It's the best thing about scrubs, easy access. The relief I feel at my cock being released just from that thin piece of cotton alone makes want to rejoice. The thought of her getting my cock out from its last form of prison is fucking ecstasy. Fingers roughly pull at my boxer briefs. I'm definitely already hard when she grabs me. Grab being the prime word here. Naturally, I flinch at her roughness, but hear Emmett in my head telling me to grow a pair. Then grimace at myself for thinking of Emmett while I've got a hand wrapped round my cock.

I bury my face in her hair, completely obliterating the chance of any other thoughts from entering my head by dragging as much of her scent in as possible. I want to drown in Bella. _Huh, she must be trying a new shampoo._ It smells a bit chemically. Too many scents fighting with each other. _Fuck, Cullen, concentrate._

She's really tugging on my cock now. I need to relax, stop thinking about it so much. Just let it happen. If I relax, she'll relax. But fuck she's being so rough; she must really be desperate for some Cullen lovin'.

Relax.

Relax.

Relax.

It's just because she's at an awkward angle. Yeah, that's it...an awkward angle.

My fingers trace their familiar trail across the perfection of Bella. I still feeling like I'm dreaming, even as the tips of my fingers slowly reach across her stomach, knowing that in moments they will gingerly making their way down. I don't even need to actually touch her because I can remember my dream of her so well. My breath hitches again just at the thought of feeling for Bella's cute landing strip of ebony. It seems like a life time since I've touched her, felt her, consumed her. That little landing strip is my guide to the promised land. I grin wondering if she'd had it made into the shape of an arrow as a surprise for me like we had joked about so many times. _Not that I needed any directions or anything._ I thought it would look hot. No-one else would see it so, why not?

Thankfully, Bella didn't like to wax or shave everything. She said she thought she would look like a little girl, which would be way too weird. I had to agree. I love the feel and look of that strip of those ebony rich hairs. It's the transfer from feathery to silky-smooth, juicy lips. Lips I want to suck on. The darkness to _the_ light; it's the journey towards my heaven.

I eagerly slip my fingers under her waist band, and start to reach around her hip, down towards the dip of her pelvis; I find that my Bella is going commando. My head tilts forward in a move that I have done since Bella and I had finally taken the plunge, and confessed our feelings for one another. I can never resist it, and she often giggles at how often I caress, lick, suck and nibble this one part of her that essentially made me admit – even if only to myself at that time – that I was in love with her.

Bella's left earlobe.

The tiny scar there on her delectable earlobe has always got me. Each and every single time I see it, rub my thumb over it, suck it in my mouth and run my tongue over the tiny pale ridge, I'm thrown back to the moment I first touched Bella. The cut on her left earlobe had led to me stroking my fingers across her cheek. Just that gentle caress had an affect on my fingers, on my body, my whole being, that I never thought possible. My eyes fixed to hers in awe, as the sensation shot through me; penetrated me to my core, via every cell, all in a split second. Deep, burning, all-consuming; all over me, right through me. Bella and I had actually gasped and stepped back from each other with the overwhelming, intense awareness of each other in that moment. It was exquisite. And even though I already knew Bella was where all my thoughts began and ended, in that moment it hit me, Bella was where my life began and ended as well.

I grin as I'm almost to her earlobe.

"Ow, fuck!"

"Sorry baby, I'll try and be more careful with my nails."

I freeze.

Body, breath, everything.

Well not quite everything. My mind is doing its own swirling and stuttering; I can't think clearly. I'm in such shock that I can't get my thoughts in order at all. And if there's a time I needed to get my thoughts in order it was fucking now.

_Think, Cullen, think._

I smell her hair again. _Not strawberries._

My hand is already _there_ ready to feel her with the tips of my fingers. To feel that soft strip that leads me to the place that is paradise. Just the slightest movement to feel for that strip. She moans. _Completely bare._

Even with my cocked being jerked like its a fucking Olympic event, it dawns on me that Bella doesn't have nails. Well, not long enough to potentially rip the skin off my dick anyway. I jerk my hand away from that bald pussy and out of her pants as my eyes shoot open. _Yes Cullen, you're awake now aren't you._

My eyes squint trying to focus; first on her hair that is chemically treated and not beautifully natural like my Bella's, and then moving down to the hand in my pants. I grab the orange tanned arm away from my almost battle-worn cock, and jump over her; off the bed. I stand there staring so fucking stunned I can't even speak. The only thing that enters my head is at least it's a female that had her hand on my cock, because Emmett would never let that one go if it hadn't been.

My cock is as shocked as me. I think it's fucking hiding just like I want to. _Urgh, I feel dirty._ I mumble shit to myself whilst trying to scramble to rearrange my... well, everything.

Then there's hands on me. Hands with nails. Hands with fake fucking nails that probably have skin under them from my dick. _Fuck, my poor dick. _I'm already grabbing the hands that should have never been anywhere near me and especially my cock and shoving them away from me. I can feel myself getting ready to explode, and not in the good way I wanted to a few minutes ago.

I interrupt the fake, sickly-sweet blabbering that's coming out of her mouth.

"What the fuck was _that_?" I don't give her the chance to reply; I'm just so fucking stunned. "What were you doing?" Yes, I know it's a stupid question. I know she was jerking my cock like she was ringing a church bell, but what the hell am I supposed to say.

Hands with the nails come at me again. Try to calm me, try to sooth me. _Fuck that._

"How did... when did you... why the fuck were you in bed with me?" Yeah, that seemed like the most important question. Why was she in bed with me, here of all places. I could lose my job, my career, over this shit. No-way is that happening. There isn't anything left in my life, apart from my family, worth risking everything I had worked for. Most of all the heavy handed whore in front of me.

"I would of thought that was obvious, Edward. I know you want me; I proved that just now." The bitch actually smirked at me. "Your cock was _soooo_ hard for me." More of the hands trying to touch, rub, grab. I can't believe she's still trying to get in my pants. Again.

"Don't fucking touch me," I said, whilst stepping back, trying to push her, guide her away. Away from me, and especially away from cock. I need to scrub my cock fucking asap. Swabs. Fuck, I'm going to have to take swabs from my own cock. I've seen her hanging off other doctors in the hospital and in the bars. Spreading her legs to anyone with any sort of status or money, just hoping that she can latch on to some poor unsuspecting soul that may fall for her. She was a gold-digging whore masquerading as being a kind, caring nurse. Most worked this out quickly; usually when she sucked their cocks within hours of meeting them. Shit, I've even walked in on her whilst she was sucking Dr. Clapp's cock in the medical supplies room. I drop my head forward, staring towards my cock. At least she scrubs her hands for work. Crap, what if it was her mouth on my cock when I woke up. _Fuck that, the dirty, diseased whore-mouth that she is._

"Don't give me that crap, Edward, you were enjoying it. I see you looking at your cock now." She steps towards me again. "Want me to finish it for you baby, suck it all down _real_ good."

My head snaps up; my mind finally catching up with what I have to do. I've to get her away from me and most importantly, away from my cock. If at all possible, permanently. I take a large, deep breath and try to pull myself together. With determination, I stand up straight, use my full height to my advantage to try and take control of this ridiculous situation I had woken up to. I need to think logically, professionally; after all, I'm in my work place. If I can't be professional here then what was the point of all the years of my training. _Not for waking up with some skanky whore with her hands down my pants, that's for sure._

"Do. Not. Touch. Me." I pull in another chest full of air as calmly as possible, trying my hardest not to give in to the urge to drag the dirty whore out by her hair, and tell everyone how she thinks it's okay to take advantage of a man whilst he's asleep. Although sleeping would have definitely been an understatement; I think I was unconscious from sheer exhaustion.

I could see by the look on her face that she still didn't get it. She thought I was messing with her.

"Look, you don't have to play hard to get any more. I. Want. Your. Cock." She's rubbing her breasts. She's actually standing in front of me, rubbing her breasts and telling me she wants my cock, when I've told her not to touch me. I rub my eyes hard in desperation with the heal of my hands; hoping that this is just some nightmare I'm about to wake up from. What the fuck is wrong with this girl. "Mmmm fuck, Edward, I'm so wet. You made me this wet for you." She's wiggling about all weird like she's trying to grind on something. I'm starting to wonder if she has a medical condition. Some sort of sex addiction. She obviously doesn't understand rejection at all. Yes, there has to be something wrong with her. Kluver-Bucy Syndrome maybe? _Whore-itis more like_.

Her talking of being wet has made some bile rise in my throat; I've realised I've just rubbed my eyes with my hands; one of which has been on her probably diseased-ridden, cock-destroying pussy. Thankfully I'd only touched her pussy with the tip of two fingers for a second. _Shit, did I put my fingers anywhere else on me, like in my hair as usual?_ I dive towards the sink in the corner and start scrubbing my hands under the hot water, and pay particular attention to those two fingers of my left hand, around my short nails and especially under. Just in case. _No, I'm sure I didn't touch anything else with them._ There's not enough antibacterial hand wash in the world to get the feeling of this skank off my hands. I want to scrub my cock too but I dare-n't get it out with the orange cockanator still in the room; she'd zoom straight in on that. I lean over the sink to wash my face free from the possibility of any 'wetness' that more than likely contains many other things. _Urgh, I don't even want to think of the possibilities._ I even wash up my nostrils as much as possible needing to get rid of the chemical-skank smell.

I glance over my shoulder wary of her trying to touch me again. The adrenaline is pumping through my veins from the shock, but I can still feel the exhaustion in the background. I have no idea how long I've slept as I can't remember what time it was when I came in here. Was I alone when I came in? Yes, I was alone, so how the fuck did she end up in bed with me? I grab a few paper towels after realizing I won't feel any better or cleaner than I do at the moment. _Dirty whore._ I start to vigorously wipe my face with the paper towels, even my nostrils, and step on the lever to open the bin next to the sink and throw those in. I then grab more to try and remove, eradicate any possible remaining nastiness. I turn to her wanting answers as I continue to forcibly remove whatever I can from my hands. She's still got one hand on her breast squeezing it hard and the other is over her mouth and nose. Her eyes are closed and she's still making moaning noises, and holy shit, is she . . . she is, she's smelling her hand. I could hear her taking long deep breathes; sniffing, dragging the smell up through her nostrils. The smell from her hand. The smell of me. The smell of my fucking cock.

"What the fuck?"

Her eyes shoot open and focus on me. Zone in on me, looking purposeful, daring. She disturbingly grins, and then runs her thumb over bottom lip. I want to run and hide. She's freaking-me-the-fuck-out right now. I just have no idea what she's going to do or try next. I need to get out of here. What if someone walks in and saw this? Shit, what if someone walked by and heard her moaning. _Fuck._

"Mmmm, Edward, you smell so good. I can't believe how big you are, well I knew you were big that much is obvious from the package you got fully loaded there..." glancing down to where she's pointing at my package, which most definitely is not 'fully-loaded' at the moment, I instantly cover myself with my hands even though I'm pretty sure that my dick is either still in hiding or may have fallen off from the possible disease "...I could barely hold it in my hand... I'm sure I could suck you off though and I _know_ I could ride it. Fuck, I just want to _eat_ you." She's getting more excited, higher pitched and louder. Drawing too much fucking attention is what she's doing.

I think my eyebrows just joined my hair 'cause I'm sure they couldn't rise any fucking further if they tried. Shocked as fuck, slightly panicked, most definitely disgusted and to be honest a little fucking scared because she was talking about _eating_ me, I step back a little even though I know I have nowhere to go. The way she was just sniffing her hand and the way she's looking at me now and snapping her teeth at me, she was looking more than a tad psychotic. She smirks at me again, and opens her mouth and licks all the way up her palm and fingers—even her nails.

"Oh fuck, you taste even better that you smell," she garbles around her fingers, which were now all the way in her mouth like she was deep-throating them. Then it dawns on me that she's still trying to seduce me. Did she not see me trying to scrub her off me just now. My mouth is hanging open in shock, but it obviously gives her the wrong impression because she moves towards me again, all predator-like. I hold my hands up to her in warning, still with the paper towels in them.

"You will not touch me, you will not come near me!" I state, as firmly as possible.

"You were hard... but, it's okay I can get you hard again. I know it's been a while but I'll soon take care of that!"

Stunned doesn't even come close to what I am in this moment. I have to get myself together and get the hell out of here.

"I was hard 'cause I thought you were someone else!" _You fucking sex obsessed lunatic, _I added in my head. I glare at her in disgust; sure that my face is more than a little green with how my stomach is churning. I want to vomit; partly from the thought of being hard with this dirty-whore-mouthed bitches – even my mother wouldn't give me _the look_ for saying it about _this woman_ – hand being around and killing off my dick and partly for knowing it wasn't Bella I held in my arms. Or ever would again.

She gasps with a look of shock on her face. I feel a little relief at the thought that she finally gets it; finally grasps some understanding of what happened, of why I was hard. _Not for her, never for her_. My feeling of ease is brief as her face suddenly looks like a light bulb has gone off in her head. _Fuck, what now?._

She starts giggling, "Oh no, you're not still on _that_ are you?" She's giggling to herself now with her hand over mouth. _What the fuck is she talking about now?_ "Shit, I thought Lauren was joking or at the very least exaggerating." The dirty whore-mouth is full on laughing now. Laughing at me. I'm confused as hell, but all I can really think is that I need to get out of here. Out of this fucking nightmare.

While she's bent over laughing at me, almost choking. I see my chance and slide passed her keeping my hands over my cock. You know, just in case. I'm get out through the door feeling quick and stealthy, but still feeling very protective of my cock when I realise there's probably people around and it wouldn't be good for a doctor, to be caught in the hallway of a hospital with his hands on his cock, even if I do have scrubs on. Especially an Obs and Gynae doctor. Or as Emmett calls me Doctor pussy; was Doctor _of _pussy but he's taken the _of_ out in recent months. _Fucker. _

I covertly smooth down my scrubs, still with the paper towels in my hand, because it's the only thing I can think of doing to move my hands away from my cock without it being completely obvious that I was cupping it. _My cock that needs scrubbing._ I make a dash to the medical supplies room and start scanning through the shelves and racks for something to clean my cock with.

"Is there something I can help you with Dr. Cullen?"

"Argh, crap," I shriek. I can do a manly shriek can't I? "Oh my god Maggie, you scared me to death... I... uh, I didn't see you back there."

"Yes, I gathered that Dr. Cullen, you seem to be a bit... preoccupied shall we say."

Preoccupied? Yeah you could say that. I just had a heavy-handed, dirty-whore-mouthed skank shredding my cock. Of course I didn't say that out loud, I just um'd and ah'd and generally made myself look like bumbling idiot. Maggie glanced down at my hands with a question look on her face which made me realise I was wringing the fuck out if the paper towels. After what had just happened my brain was a mess and ready to stick the 'out of order' sign up at any minute. Thankfully, Maggie, took pity on me and didn't question what was going on.

"Dr. Cullen... Edward, you're working too hard, you're exhausted. You need a break; Its not good for you. I know you want to be the best and help all the mothers you can and especially those precious little ones as much as possible but, Edward, with all the hours here and the research and... well I know you're avoiding things and its–"

She had raised her hand moving it to rest it on my forearm, trying to comfort me, but I knew if she did, it would probably break down my last thin wall of defence right now if I had any sort compassion shown to me. I just had to cut her off. "I'm a little tired but, I'm okay; my shift finishes soon and I'll get some sleep then." I made a move to turn and to leave her to the organising and re-checking of the supplies; the hub of any ward as she called it.

Maggie has run this ward with care and precision for years even before my father started working here. And although Carmen is the chief in this area, _the_ top expert in all things mother and baby, Maggie is the one that made sure everyone did their job; made sure that their job was done to the best of their abilities by ensuring everyone is trained, organised and cared-for. There has been the odd exception though. Her priority is the patients just like all of us – well most of us, the odd exception being _that dirty whore_. She made sure every piece of equipment, every person that came through the doors was where they were supposed to be, doing what they were supposed to do. To Maggie, taking care of us, the staff, and the organisation of the ward safeguarded against any additional risks to the patients. She was someone to look up to; the lead to follow in any given emergency. She was an example in how to be the best nurse at any level. It was her calling she always said; that I understood. _If only certain others had that calling._

I have to escape her flying into a lecture that I couldn't deal with right now or again. I'd had the same one off my mother a few days ago and several times over the last six months. And not just from my mother either; family, friends, colleagues had all said the same thing, "Move on Edward, she's not coming back." Of course, at first they just patted me on the back and gave me the "she just needs a break" speech, but it wasn't long and painfully obvious before I realised she wasn't coming back. That's when I went from crestfallen and desperately lonely to completely heartbroken with a side of anger. In my misery I took the idiotic advice that I should go and get wasted;try and fuck her out of my system. Yeah, that didn't work.

"Edward, are you okay?" she asked.

"I'm fine, honestly"

"But you need to talk about things, you need–"

"What I need is to get back to work. Sorry Maggie, but I don't have time for this right now." The stress and strain of everything which had happened is pushing my patience to the edge, and Maggie is the last person along with my parents that I would ever want to disrespect and take my anger out on.

I immediately turn to leave before I say something I would really regret. Swinging the door open and moving back out into the corridor, I see the dirty whore just coming out of the on-call room still giggling. _Fuck, I still need to clean my cock._ I head for the only safe place I can think of at the moment; fortunately it's in the opposite direction of the heavy-handed one. Yes, I feel like a pussy running away into the men's bathroom, yet I can't find an ounce of me to care as long as I get to avoid those hands and thinking anything about it right now. The problem is that the one thing I spend a great deal of effort trying to forget is now at the forefront of my mind. Bella.

I check the few bathroom stalls to my right to make sure I'm alone, and breathe a sigh of relief of them being empty and getting to have a moment to myself. The usual disinfectant smell of the bathroom is calming in a way; it reminds of when I have to concentrate on my job and zone in on what needs to be done. And what needs to be done right now is to clean that skank off my cock. Finally depositing the twisted paper towels in the bathroom trash can, I take a few deep breathes and lean my hands on the sink. I stare at my hands. More specifically at the two fingers on my left hand which I'm wishing I could trade or at least bleach the fuck out of them; I'd like to bleach it out of my brain too.

I remove my watch and place it on the beige counter near the sink. I'm questioned often why I still wear it and I always give the same bullshit excuses that it's a great watch, keeps excellent time, it's comfortable. In reality it often feels like it weighs a tonne with the weight of it's meaning and memories; but I'm not ready to part with it as it would feel like I'm giving up that last connection to her. They know my excuses are lies.

Glancing at the watch to time myself as I start scrubbing my hands again to make sure I put in the full six minutes this time. I make the effort to scrub my forearms as well as my hands and nails, like I'm prep-ping for surgery; I'd rather picture that in my head than the real reason. _Dirty, heavy-handed whore!_ I splash some cold water on face when the six minutes of scrubbing and rinsing is up to try and refresh myself, but make the mistake of looking up into the mirror in front of me only to see myself glaring back at myself and looking thoroughly distressed. I quickly throw more water on my face trying to either remove the look from my face, or at the very least pretend it's not there.

_My dick, I need to scrub my dick._

I quickly put my watch back on and push the elastic strap of it up my arm to keep it from getting wet. Gripping another handful of paper towels–I should buy shares in these damn things at this rate–I dry my hands, arms and face and trash them before taking three out this time to hopefully help clean any nasty skankness off my dick. Shit, I need more paper towels than that if I'm going to manage this without making my scrubs look like I've pissed myself. Plus, I need to do it in one of the cubicles; as possibly being seen with my hands on my cock in the hallway and then being caught in the bathroom with my cock out would not be good.

_More fucking paper towels. _I don't know whether to love them or loath them right now because although they are saving me from feeling completely skankified, I know that these fuckers aren't going to be the most gentlest thing on my dick especially when it's already been scared to death and is feeling a little tender. _Shit, I feel like my dick has been tenderized like a piece of steak._ I quickly assemble what I need making sure most of the warm water is squeezed out of the two paper towels I'm going to use to try and wash and rinse my dick. I get a squirt of the blue antibacterial hand wash on one of the wet paper towels and try to lather it up a little. I know this isn't recommended, but I feel it's necessary. I lay out one paper towel on the counter top with several folded on top and several more laid out on top of those. Mentally I'm behaving like I'm preparing for surgery. No, I don't want to feel like I'm operating on my dick, but in stressful situations I have found that doing things in a logical and methodical manner makes it easier because you're more focused on what has to be done rather than the stress. Those thoughts of what could happen in the worst possible scenario are at the back of your mind instead of being at the forefront which would cause you to make serious mistakes.

Tilting my head a little I try and listen if there's anyone about to come in whilst glaring at the bathroom door. I head towards the cubicles with my improvised decontamination kit looking for one which already has the lid down on the toilet. I take a deep breath of the disinfectant scented air, which if I'm honest is a little shaky. Not sure if that's from what has happened or from the thought of someone coming in here right now. I have never used the bathrooms anywhere for anything other than to take a leak, and wouldn't for anything else unless it's a major emergency; it's so clean you could eat off it and also there's no-one else in there–but this is a fucking emergency if there ever was one. They all know about my bathroom avoidance. Apparently my mother thinks it's fun to tell 'cute' little stories about me when she's had a few too many at the Christmas party. I had purposely rented an apartment as close to the hospital as possible, not only because it would be easier for me to get more hours in, but also so I could use my own bathroom whenever I needed. I just don't want to share ass space with anyone else – well almost anyone else. The things people do in these places are just freaky and disgusting. _Fuck, I'm about to become one of them_.

I lock the door to the cubicle and jiggle it checking it's firmly closed and there isn't a chance of it opening until I want it to. I still have the two wet paper towels in my right hand and so with my left I carefully lay the the dry ones on the lid making sure the ones I'm going to use are safe. Safe from falling, safe from the lid, safe from the germs. Well as much as possible.

Whilst staring ahead I pull on the ties to my scrubs. I'm a little afraid at what I might find, and give my shoulders and neck a little shake and stretch hoping to snap myself out of this absurdity. I'm acting like an alien's going to shoot out of my pants. _How the fuck did I end up in hospital bathroom cubicle needing to decontaminate my possibly alien-dick?_ I can smell that dirty-mouthed-whore's fake, chemical stench of foulness on my scrubs even though the strong smell of disinfectant was still prominent. Getting clean scrubs are definitely next on my list after tending to my dick.

I'm not sure if I'm hiding from my dick or he's hiding from me. Who's scared the most... I don't know. Making the effort to man-the-fuck-up, I lightly smooth my fingertips over my pants feeling the outline of my cock. I think I'm checking it's still there.

I had every intention of getting in here and getting this over and done with, with speed and preferably a blank mind, but fuck if I can make myself move faster or make my mind into that desired barrenness. I don't want to think about what had happened, and I don't want to have memories of Bella bombarding my mind while I'm at work. I'm so disappointed with myself that even after not seeing her for what seemed like an eternity, I still thought it was her in my arms. Still thought it was her I was touching and her touching me.

I decide to just go for it; get it over and done with. This over-thinking isn't getting me anywhere. Spreading my legs a little so my scrubs won't fall on the floor of the bathroom cubicle, I ease them, along with my boxer briefs, down a little at a time moving my left hand from hip to hip. I pull them out and over my cock and let them sit just below my balls. It's a little awkward doing it with one hand, but I had done it many times when Bella begged me not to stop touching her. _Like she had to beg._ I never wanted to stop touching her in anyway at any time.

I still haven't looked down yet being so worried at what I might find. I'm half expecting there to be false nail stuck under my foreskin. _No, I'd feel that __surely._ The thought alarms me and so I quickly look down to check I am indeed nail-less in the cock area. Big fucking sigh of relief is an understatement. I tenderly touch my cock with appreciation; promising to protect him from any further skankiness. I carefully apply a little pressure here and there, and move it about to generally inspect it. There are a few light scratches but I can't see anything too serious that would warrant any medical help from anyone other than myself. My balls have thankfully made it through the ordeal unscathed. Now to tend to the unseen plague on my dick. It's decontamination time. Any germs, disease, infection, any traces of the dirty whore have to be removed. I hadn't worn a condom for every sexual encounter I'd ever had for my dick to be defiled and desecrated by that tramp.

I realise that I'm leaning on my forearm up against the side of the cubicle with the wet paper towels still in my hand. Probably out of relief maybe out of desperation of what I'm doing and dealing with. I try to centre myself by taking a deep breath and push myself of the side to finish this. I'm still standing with my legs apart to keep my pants up because I don't want any of the crap on the floor to get on my pants or anything else even though I'm going to change them as soon as I get out of here. I pick up those few paper towels from the top of my assembled pile – the open, laid out ones – and cup them under my balls so I'm ready to catch anything that falls off. _Including my dick_. If I have a small wet patch I'll look like either I didn't shake enough after a leak or that I've been leaking pre-cum. Again not a good look for a doctor in a hospital, especially one on an Obs and Gynae ward. If I had a large wet patch well I'll just look I pissed myself. Growing up with Emmett for a brother, I became paranoid as he always spotted this type of thing on anyone and wouldn't let it go until he found something else to rib about. Sometimes never. One jock friend of Emmetts went right through high school with the nick name stain. Some people would have been mortified but he was took this name and used to his advantage telling people it was because he could never be removed; from the football team or from a circle of friends. They loved him even more for this and it led to him gain quite a bit of female attention according to Emmett.

I gently wash my cock and balls almost just dabbing at them with the soapy side of scrunched paper towels. The scratches from the nails sting a bit but it's nothing too serious. At least the towels are a lot softer when wet. I come to a standstill in washing my cock as I'm stuck in being able to pull my foreskin back to clean any of her remains away as my one hand is full with a wad of wet paper towels and the other is cupping dry paper towels under my balls to catch any drips. _Fuck._

The memory of a similar situation of not having enough hands springs to mind, and a smile automatically spreads across my face as I close my eyes embracing the memory. It feels good to have a natural smile for once; haven't had a lot of genuine ones lately.

Time hadn't been on our side as Bella and I hadn't had any time together all of that week. We were lucky to get a few texts to each other a day and agreed not to send anything remotely sexual otherwise I'd be walking around with a permanent boner. I'd get fired, lose my placement, probably mauled by a certain few co-workers and be in pain and blue-balled all in one day. So sexting was a definite no.

Bella however was not to be deterred. _Another reason why I loved her._

I had finally made it home for the first time in a couple of days. It was early on a Sunday morning, and I was struggling to get my keys in the door whilst holding a stack of research papers, my bag of fresh laundry courtesy of my mom, along with her daily delivery of the tastiest breakfast known to man and a travel mug full of sweet, rich hot chocolate. I tried to move things about in my arms and hands. Carefully manoeuvring each item from place to place finally ending with the last overly large bite of my breakfast hanging out of my mouth whilst the rest of the items precariously balanced as best as possible.

I almost had the key to the lock when the door flew open and I was grabbed by the front of jacket, pulled into the apartment swiftly without word or even breath. Fortunately, I wasn't so sleepy that I did manage to realise it was Bella and not some deranged lunatic attacking me. But only after I made muffled squeak through the breakfast firmly wedged in my mouth.

Attack. I was being attacked. Attacked by the most glorious being who seemed to look ravenous.

She slammed the door shut and pushed me back against it. I panicked at first thinking Bella had lost her mind and was angry at me for... what I didn't know though. My eyebrows were raised high; firstly from the shock but kept there by Bella's vehemence. I wanted to know why she was so eager. She looked hot and flustered. I couldn't move or speak with all the paperwork balanced in one arm with keys clenched in hand, and my bag of laundry on other arm with hot chocolate in that hand and the damn breakfast still jammed in my mouth.

Hands were rubbing my cock through my scrubs, which was hard within seconds. He was more than ready for anything as long as he came at some point.

_This_ was why she looked hot and flustered. I needed to get rid of this shit in my hands; put my breakfast somewhere, anywhere because it was to big to manoeuvre into my mouth and actually chew. I was starving, hadn't eaten for twelve hours but eating Bella would more than suffice for now though. _Fuck, I __could live off her pussy if I had to._

Bella looked right into my eyes as I tried to mumble about the stuff in my hands and mouth. She smirked and just dropped to her knees, right there with me up against the front door. I couldn't believe what she was doing. Don't get me wrong I was the furthest from unhappy you could get, but I was trapped. Couldn't just drop everything; Bella and I may get burnt with the hot chocolate and also I couldn't drop the paperwork as it was the results of thousands of hours research and test results. I could kick myself for not bothering with a bag because I only lived a minute or two away. And I'm pretty sure Bella didn't want my half-mauled breakfast tumbling onto her head.

I tried to mumble around the food again to get her attention. I looked at her with wide eyes when she stripped off my shirt she had been wearing, taking one arm out at a time whilst keep the other pressed on my abdomen, making sure I didn't move an inch. My muscles flexed and writhed under the pressure of her hand. My dick pounded against her wrist trying to beat his own path to her touch. Now she was left in only her fluffy bed socks. No underwear at all. Sitting back onto her feet, knees spread just enough to show me what I needed to see, she looked up at me and smirked, raising her one eyebrow in torment. I wanted her right-the-fuck-now and she was teasing me, forcing me to let her have control of the situation. Of me.

Total control of me.

She raised her finger to her juicy lips. "Shhhh," she whispered to me with a deliciously, devilish smirk. A teasing grin that showed she knew exactly what she was doing to me. I just stood there–didn't have a choice–dumbfounded and more than a little proud of the woman my Bella had become. She was oozing with self-confidence and it turned me on even more. She sucked that same finger in her mouth and looked up at me through her thick lashes with hooded eyes. "Mmmm." She made a show of running her tongue around her finger and then added the next. She was tasting her fingers. Then it dawned on me why she was so hot and flustered before I had even got here. She had been masturbating in my apartment whilst wearing my shirt. My shirt that I had worn, that probably smelled of me.

She was tasting herself. _Fuuuuck me._

Bella opened my jacket up with her other hand and lifted my scrub top away from my body. She slipped those two fingers out of her mouth and reached up under my scrubs top and rubbed those two fingers over my left nipple, giving it a little tug between them now and again.

She was making me more frustrated and I'm sure she was doing it on purpose. Bella wanted me to explode with lust. The overload of sexual desire was going to kill me if I didn't have my dick in something soon.

Bella answered my needful groan with fingers enveloping my cock through my scrub pants. Wet fingers still teasing my nipple into little bullets. Her nipples begged me to return the favour, to suck on them too. I was sure I could actually hear them calling me. I wanted in on this nipple action going on. I wanted to suck them into my mouth. Pull them with my teeth whilst fucking her into oblivion. I wanted my cock so deep inside her – mouth, pussy, between her tits, anywhere would do as long as it was part of Bella. I couldn't help it. She did this to me. She was driving me insane. The need I had for her was insatiable. I could never get enough of her.

I had to close my eyes for a moment, to calm myself. Had to concentrate on not dropping my food on Bella's face. _She'd probably never go on her knees for me again._ Praise to the dozens of people who invented the various forms of spill proof containers for beverages, otherwise I know Bella would have caused me to spill the hot chocolate several times by now. I clung onto it like it was a life-giving source, even though was Bella was my real life-giving source. At that moment I felt like she was going to suck my very soul out of me. _She can have it, all of it, everything I am._

I heard her take in a deep breath which made my eyes shoot open to look down at her just in time to see her eyes sparkling with mischief as she leaned forward, close to my cock, and blew her hot breath through my pants, straight onto the head of my cock. I shuddered so strongly I actually thought my legs were going to give out. I quickly straightened them, locked them into place as I wasn't sure I could hold out otherwise. _Fuck, why don't I have a hall table to dump all this stuff on._ She then ran her tongue up the length of my cock leaving a slight trace of saliva on my pants. The end of it sticking out away from my stomach as much as possible trying to escape the confines of its prison. She continued with her tongue by circling the the head, just barely letting me feel her touch, her breath.

My heavy breathing was going into overdrive and I know that the extra oxygen I was rapidly taking in was affecting every part of me. I was too excited. I needed to calm the fuck down.

_Holy shit! Don't come in your pants, don't come in your pants._

I had to think of something else quick. Anything, anything at all apart from the hot breath and teasing touch of the tongue that was about to kill me. I didn't think my heart could keep up with rate it was going even though I was fit and healthy. My Bella was taunting my every cell to its very limits.

Hot breath.

Hot girlfriend.

Hot breath of my hot girlfriend making my cock hot.

Hot and wet.

_Way to go Cullen, that's really thinking about something else._

I swear I was now gasping for air, and then Bella did something that caused me to stop breathing. I think maybe even my heart stopped too. I know my brain had. The only thing she left working in her wake was my cock.

She tilted my her head back and waited a moment until she was sure had my full attention. She made sure I was watching her every move. She looked like she was famished and this was just the appetizer before she devoured me whole for the main course. For dessert... I had no idea.

Leaning forward again, keeping her eyes fixed on mine until she was just a few inches away, Bella zoned in on her intended target. But again I couldn't guess what she was going to do. Anything was possible and I was okay with anything and everything possible that she wanted to do. I was hers. Willingly. Gladly. Devotedly. Absolutely.

Teeth grazed across the head of my cock just firmly enough for me to feel before she cupped it in her between her teeth. Her mouth was so heavenly. I had no fear from Bella's teeth at all. I knew she wouldn't hurt me no matter how dominating she was being. Yes, it was the first time she had behaved so forward, so empowered, and I was loving that she felt so safe and confident in being with me that she felt she could do this.

The teasing, the titillation was beyond anything Bella had ever done before. Any visual of Bella was enough to have me rock hard and ready for her, let alone her being on her knees before me ready to ravish every inch of my cock. She hadn't got my scrub pants off yet and I was ready to come in them like a teenage boy watching a Baywatch marathon.

This visual of Bella had me totally fixated on her mouth. The images that sprang to my mind of her first attempting a blowjob on me were only making me want her more. I loved her then and appreciated her for wanting to try to give me pleasure in this ecstasy inducing manner, and though at the time I never thought I could love her more, my love and desire for Bella did increase everyday. So this... this right now was euphoric.

_Please, get my cock out. Please, I'll do anything, anything at all. Just wrap your lips around it and suck me until every last drop of my being is pulled out of me. _If only I could actually voice this to her. I loved Esme's breakfasts but fuck was I cursing them at the moment.

When Bella snapped her teeth at me then snatched the longest part of the tie to my scrub pants with them, I almost choked on the cursed breakfast still trapped partially in my mouth. Languorously she moved her head back with a slight tilt to look back up to me. Teeth firmly clasping the tie which was the key to my release. I was desperate. My cock was desperate. I needed it out of my scrub pants. Out in the open where it would be one step closer to being in a hot, warm paradise. At this point I didn't care which one of her heavenly places she was offering as long as she took me to her promised land of orgasm.

With a last sharp tug, the bow my pants tie were in came undone, and she eagerly hooked her fingers in the waist band of my boxer-briefs pulling them down with my scrub pants. My cock sprang forward almost smacking her in the face. _Fuck, I almost cock-slapped her in the face._

She giggled at my cocks zealous fight to get out of it confines. "Is someone a little eager? Does my Edward's cock need something?" Her eyes were focused on my face. Eyes sparkled with desire, but there was still a look of wickedness in them. She was debating whether to tease me some-more. I was sure of it. I gave her a look of pleading, no, begging would more accurate. Bribery wouldn't have been out of the question if I could actually voice it. She had me that wound up.

Bella took mercy on me and glided her hands from my ankles up over the back of my calf's. My muscles were taught from the strain of having them locked in place, barely holding me up. She seemed to enjoy the texture of my hairs, and ran her fingers up and down them with a feather touch so they almost tickled as they moved.

My legs trembled when she lightly trailed her nails at the back of my knees. She touched me, turned me on in places I had no idea I would even find arousing. I'd probably get turned-on if Bella kissed my elbow. She had that effect on me; I had no control over it. I loved it. She was it.

Bella kept her hands spread out around the back of my legs when she continued on up until she came to the beginnings of my buttocks. I could feel her caressing the crease that formed there from my straightened legs and forward thrust pelvis.

She watched me carefully for my reaction.

Back and forth, back and forth she moved her fingers. Each time inching further in-between my thighs.

Inching.

Inching.

Inching.

I could feel her breath hitting my cock even though she wasn't anywhere near close enough to touch me with her mouth. _Probably wasn't risking getting cock-slapped. _My cock seemed to have a will of it's own. Bella had control of it and it stood to attention waiting for her command.

A muffled groan of pleasure was making it's presence known in my throat as Bella's fingers teased their way along the skin to my balls. I wanted to thrust my cock in her mouth, but I fought the urge in case she left me blue-balling. I'm sure they would never recover if I didn't get some relief soon.

I was struggling with everything I was trying to hold as well as the raging hard-on that needed immediate attention. It needed action. The want had turned into a need.

Her watching me watching her... so close to taking my cock in her mouth. Lips are licked by both of us in anticipation. Both of our mouths dry from breathing heavily. I swallowed hard. At this rate it wouldn't be long before Bella's mouth was wet and salty with the hot spurts of my orgasm.

My eyes were hooded with just the thought of it. I fought against the natural urge to close them; I didn't want to miss a second of anything to do with Bella, most of all this.

Closer.

Closer.

Almost there... and she inches lower at the last moment and sucks on one of my balls. Runs her tongue around it and moves to the other with a slurp and a "mmm".

I shuddered, I groaned, I throbbed.

A hand caressing the throb, holding the twitch in place. Her tongue moving up the length of my cock when another movement catch my eye; Bella's hand moving down between her legs. Then, along with her moan that she gave as her lips wrapped around my cock, I heard her... heard the wetness of her.

Wanted her. Needed her. Loved her. Always.

Vibrations and beeping bring me back to the present. A present where I don't want to be; a hospital bathroom cubicle where I'm standing with my cock in my hand having been jerking for all it's worth. I'd much rather be back in my memory of Bella. The timing of my pager going off is more than irritating after the day I've had even though this is almost the last place I want to doing this. Anywhere near the cock-destroying, whore-mouth is the last place. But I know my pager would only be called if there's an admittance into the ER of a pregnant woman.

The door to bathroom suddenly squeaks as it opens and I almost squeak along with the door at the shock of getting caught with my cock in my hand. I twist my body to glance at the lock again to check it. It's locked. I can't be seen and I haven't been caught... really.

Thankfully the shock and embarrassment of _almost_ getting caught is enough to will my cock down from its intended release to fit snugly back in my boxer-briefs. Okay, my balls were killing me from not getting to the big finale twice in under a hour but the thought of the fist time is enough to get rid of the last of my semi. After fastening the ties of my scrub pants into a double knot – no fucking whore is getting in there again – I fold the paper towels as small and discrete package as possible and use them to touch the handle to flush. I hope that it isn't anyone I work with outside this cubicle. I really can't deal with anyone right now. I just want to dispose of these fucking paper towels, scrub my hands and get the fuck out of this bathroom and get to the ER.

I try to appear confident as I make my way out of the cubicle towards the sinks. Thankfully a trash can is near them, and I dump those paper towels quick fast and start working on scrubbing my hands. I glance at the mirror to check if the guy at the urinals is looking at me. He doesn't even lift his head; he's too busy trying to take a leak. It's not happening by the way he's muttering to himself. The doctor side of me wants to say something, offer some advice, but I had an emergency to get to and I wasted too much time already.

I check my pager whilst heading to the elevators – it is the ER. The lift doors shut just before I get there and so I make a mad dash down the stairs. There's no point in phoning to see what the emergency is, I'm only called for specific things; I deal with pregnant women that have been brought in an emergency where there's possible danger to the mother and baby. It's part of the research I've been doing, but also to gain as much experience as possible. All this is done around the needs of the labour and delivery unit of course.

At the bottom of the stairs I take a deep breath to put myself into doctor mode. Moving through the double doors, I take in what's going on around me. I realise I don't normally do this; I would just get stuck in. I felt strange. I haven't felt this way in along time. I shake it off putting it down to being tired and the shock and stress I've been in the last few hours. I zone back in, make my way closer to get to work and actually help instead of standing there like lame assed dick. I need to asses the situation, work logically. I hear my father, the Chief, giving commands. He sounds different. Calm, but not his usual calm. There are so many people around the bed I can't see anything. People are shouting stats, the machines are beeping. I still haven't moved any closer what the fuck is wrong with me.

My father glances up at me. "Edward! What are you doing here?"

This confuses me. "I was paged for the emergency of course." I still haven't moved. He wouldn't usually call me 'Edward' at work either.

"But, I told them to cancel it," my father said. He looks stressed, panicked even. Definitely not normal. Then, panic washed over me. Shit! It must be someone we know. Fuck, it must be family. My mother, my brother, my sister...

"D-D-D-Dad what's going on?", I stammer.

He stares at me. I can see the internal debate going on inside his head. I go to move forward as the panic now starts to hit me full force, but he darts to me whilst shaking his head telling me no. Before I know it, I've been spun around and pushed away from... whoever it is that they're working on. My father carries on giving commands to the other doctors and nurses as he pushes me forward. _Fuck we need to get back there to save them. Save..._

"Dad... is it Mom? Emmett? Alice?" My voice rises with each name.

I glance to my right as I'm moved with a thousand thoughts spinning in my head. I notice the next bed with a sheet covering the person. The sheet doesn't quite cover the shoulder properly & my eyes instantly zone in on the badge that's sticking out on the sleeve. _Shit! It's a police badge._

Emmett.

No. Fuck no, not Emmett.

My father tries to move me further from beds. I know people are probably looking at us, making a scene but right I couldn't give a fuck what people think. This is my family. They come first.

I shrug my father off to get closer to the body. I need to know, but at the same time I don't want to know. If it's my brother, I... I don't know what I'll do.

I notice the boots. Police issue boots.

Emmett has feet like a sasquatch; those feet do not belong to Emmett, they're too small.

It's not Emmett.

It's fucking not Emmett.

I feel relief but guilty for it too. I let out a shaky breath that I've been holding for who knows how long and put my hand on my fathers shoulder to steady myself. He still looks pained and worried, and I double check my judgement of the boots. _Definitely not Emmett._

That's when I look closer at the badge on the shoulder. It's not a Seattle badge it's a Forks police badge. _Fuck._

_Please be Mike, please be Mike. Not Charlie, not Charlie!_

I edge towards the bed knowing the implications of the next few seconds. It wasn't that I wanted Mike dead but I didn't want it to be Charlie; I didn't want Bella to go through that pain. I never wanted her to suffer no matter what happened between us. Mike was prick that did what he could to piss me off when in Forks. He'd always wanted Bella, and couldn't believe she wasn't with him. I'm sure he only worked his way into the job of deputy to be closer to Bella through Charlie.

"Fuck!"

An arm around my shoulders pulls me away from the only thing I can look at; the moustache of Charlie Swan. There was no mistaking that moustache no matter how bloodied and battered he was.

My eyes move down his body surveying the damage even though it's mostly covered by the sheet. There's a big lump sticking up in the middle of the sheet and I shakily lift the sheet to see the damage. There's a sawn off tree branch going right through his torso. I drop the sheet back onto him and step back out the end of the bed near the curtain. I've dealt with so many emergencies that I couldn't recount half of them, but when it's someone close to you it's always different. Not in a good way. This was the first time I'd had someone this close to me be involved in something like this. _I wasn't even here to help save him._

Bella... she's going to be devastated.

I realise then that my father's talking to me.

"Edward, please leave now. It's the best thing for all. I don't want you to deal with this. Don't worry, I'll sort it out. There's no serious damage done as far as we can tell, so just go get some sleep and I'll let you know how things are tomorrow morning–"

"What do you mean 'there's no serious damage done'? He's dead! Charlie's dead. You can't get more serious damage done than that,"

My father's face was stunned to say the least. Did he not know it was Charlie? Did he not know he was dead? He looked over my shoulder to the other person being worked on, and then back to me. He took a deep breath obviously to calm himself.

Turning to see what he was looking at, emergency room staff working diligently on the patient, clothes that had been cut away from the patient and bagged, dumped to the side. That's when I noticed. All in the matter of a second or two I took all this in around me and realised. The sleeve hanging out of the bag is emerald green and has a hole near the cuff. A hole where it was worn and someone would put their thumb through it. I knew that sleeve. It was mine. I'd worn it. I shared it. I'd eventually gave it. Gave it with love because it was her favourite and she felt comfort from it.

I moved passed my father to confirm what I didn't want to believe. Long dark hair, bloodied and matted with bits of pine, twigs and leaves. An oxygen mask covering the face, but there was no mistake. Wires and tubes here and there, and... there, right there was the reason I was paged.

"Edward, it's Bella. She's pregnant."

"No shit, dad."

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><p>AN: Okay, a lot going on in this first chapter – yes, I threw you straight into the thick of it.

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	2. Chapter 2

**AN:**

**If I owned twilight there wouldn't have been any fade to black... at least not for the lemon scenes! PG13? … not likely. Sparkly peens all the way baby!**

**Apologies for long gap between posting – RL kicks your ass sometimes.**

**Thanks for the reviews/alerts/favourites for chapter 1 - really appreciate it. Review replies weren't working for a while but I did reply to those that had their PM's activated. **

**Also surprised that only a few were pissed at Edward being mauled by a certain hospital worker & that no-one mentioned Kluver-Bucy Syndrome - did anyone know what it was?**

**Some serious smexin goes to my podster kewlwhip who without I wouldn't have done this chapter. She's my pre-reader & she lets me pick her brains for those words used in the US as well as tells me the truth whether she understands what the hell I'm talking about.**

**Nope, still don't have a beta!**

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><p><strong>Every Touch Tells a Story<strong>

**Chapter Two**

**In Good Hands**

**BPOV**

Whatever that noise is, it had better shut-the-fuck-up.

My head is banging. It even hurts to think.

Mom must be listening to some new weird CD again; last time it was dolphins making whistle and clicking noises. A few years ago it was _the sounds of the sea. _We lived by the fucking sea at the time.

It's no good, I have to stop the noise. I can't take any more.

_Fuck, that hurts. _Well crap, I can't move. I feel awkward and bulky without even moving and why the hell does my nose feel so irritated? I wiggle my nose trying to scratch the itch. It feels a little better but not exactly relieved.

I try to take a large lungful of air, but my chest feels heavy and uncomfortable.

Heavy eyes. Heavy head. Heavy senses.

_What's going on? _

"Bella, can you hear me?" The voice soothing and comforting even though I feel slightly panicked at not knowing what was going on - It's familiar to me.

My eyes still feel heavy, but my nosiness fights the weight and my eyelids flutter letting flashes of light through. Thankfully, the light isn't too bright but it still makes my eyes and head hurt. I frown and wince from the pain which I'm sure is the cause of the hand stroking my fingers moving to my cheek combined with a soft, motherly "Shhhh" to me.

"Bella, it's okay we're here to help you. Everything's going to be okay, just try to relax," the familiar voice says in a practised bedside manner. Relax? Seriously? How can I relax when I don't know what's going on?

My eyes finally focus and I realise in seconds that I'm in a hospital room. "Crap, what the hell did I do this time?" My voice gravelly from my throat being dry.

There are some chuckles before the familiar voice clears his throat in an obvious 'be quiet' manner. "Are you in any pain, Bella?"

I can see now that it's Carlisle, though in this setting I'm sure I should call him Doctor Cullen. Smoothing my hair back off my face is Esme. It feels so long since I've seen them. I try to think how long but my head hurts too much.

"Everything hurts... and feels kinda heavy. My head... it feels sorta fuzzy. I need a drink, please." I barely manage to breath the words out, hating sounding and feeling so weak.

"I'll get some ice-chips."

"Thank you, Maggie," Carlisle says over his shoulder. I try to turn my head to see, but then with the fogginess clearing a little I realised why I couldn't. I have a neck brace on and I can't help but huff over being so constricted as well as being in hospital.

"What happened? Did I fall again?"

"Bella, sweetheart... you were in–"

"Bella, what do you remember?" Totally out of character, Carlisle cut Esme off which instantly puts me on edge.

What do I remember? I'm not sure. I try to think, I'm sure with the pain and confusion showing on my face. My thought process sluggish, memories of my life and snapshots of people and their spoken words are foggy at best at the moment.

"Remember? Um, I'm not sure."

"That's okay, no pressure. Give it a little time and I'm sure everything will come back to you." Carlisle is trying to reassure me, smiling like the kind caring man he is, but I can see a hint of frown in his brow that he can't quite disguise no matter how hard he tries. He's concerned which makes me more concerned.

Ice-chips are handed to Esme with an 'everything will be okay' smile. "Thank you, Maggie," says Esme. Not just for the ice-chips I'm sure.

Esme turns her attention back to me with her motherly affection looking a little frazzled but still as beautiful as ever. The guilt hits me for causing her stress and taking up her time. It's Carlisle's job to treat me as his patient, but Esme doesn't have to be here. My mom should be here.

Esme strokes my hair back again and then gently tilts the cup of ice-chips to my mouth in a practised move making sure only a small amount tumbles into my parched mouth. The relief I feel is embarrassingly shown when I moan causing Esme to grin and a sound come from the corner of the room to the side of me which I can't turn to see. I carry on sucking and even crunching the ice-chips in my need for rehydration. Esme gives me some more and only then am I feeling somewhat human. Well, a human that can't move or know what's going on but anything is better than how I felt on waking.

"Better?"

"Yes, thanks Esme. I'm sorry for causing you so much trouble. You really don't have to stay, I'll be fine." My guilt bubbles to the surface even though I know Esme would do this for anyone. I try to give her a genuine smile but between my face being a little squished from the neck brace and my feeling of being overwhelmed I'm sure it doesn't come across too convincingly. Esme's face confirms this as she looks at me in way that seems confused or hurt even.

"You don't want me here?"

"Oh no, no please don't think that. I just don't want to take any more of your time up. I know you must have lots to do and I don't want you to feel that you have to be here. I'm sure mom or dad will be here soon." Shit, now I feel even more guilty for making her feel like I'm trying to get rid of her.

"I'm staying right here for as long as you need or want me here. I volunteer here anyway sweetheart so I can come and go as I please. Isn't that right Carlisle?" Esme eyeballs Carlisle who is checking the readouts on the machines around me, daring him to contradict her.

He dutifully nods his head. "Of course, darling."

Esme's beaming smile towards me puts me at ease again, and I can't help but giggle a little and in turn the movement makes me remember that I don't feel right. Not just certain parts of me being immobile, but not feeling like I'm me, like I'm in a different body. Something is... odd. Maybe I need to use the bathroom or something.

"You see, I'm all yours," says Esme, with wink to show she knows what she's doing.

"Thank you Esme, really." And I really am thankful. I dread to think how I'd be feeling or reacting if I was surrounded by people I didn't know when waking up like this.

Carlisle caught my eye then and drew me out of our little moment by clearing his throat.

"Feeling a little better now?" Carlisle asks with his doctor face on.

"Much better thanks. Can I take this neck brace off now?" I ask trying to smile and look as well as possible in the hopes of getting the contraption off me.

Carlisle chuckles and shakes his head. "Same old Bella trying to do things her way."

A gasp comes from Esme causing my eyes to dart to her. Her perfectly shaped eyebrows had shot up and she was obviously trying to tell Carlisle something. What, I don't know and not sure if I want to know. The look doesn't look good which means it can't be good for me. So, I just lie there – not that I have any choice – and keep quiet ignoring whatever is going on.

Carlisle quickly goes into full on doctor mode and starts spouting off my stats which I know he wouldn't normally do. I've never seen him panic or ramble over anything. Seeing the perplexing look on my face, Carlisle stops his speed talking ans takes a deep breath obviously trying to pull himself together.

"We still have some more tests to do now you're awake. You know the routine, Bella." His grin to me is comforting now he is back to the Carlisle I know. I can't help the deep frown appearing on my forehead at the thought of keeping it on for longer and being poked and prodded, and probably fussed over – though I don't feel like I've been fussed over in a long time. "At least you're not pouting like Alice would so that's something," Carlisle brings my smile back tenfold at the thought of seeing Alice. It feels like a lifetime ago since I last saw her even though it's only a few months. That Christmas holidays with the Cullens and my dad was honestly the best I'd ever had, and not having to worry about Renee for the first time ever was so freeing. _Thank you, Phil._

"Lets get started then so we can see if that neck brace can be removed so you can have a little more freedom to move. Of course, your left arm and leg will take quiet a while before their casts can be removed. We've got your arm resting on a pillow so it's more comfortable for you than the weight of it pressing on your body. The bruises on your torso are slightly lighter compared to your arm and leg and so they'll clear up before you know it. The scrapes and bruises and swelling on your cheek side of your forehead may take a little longer. You also have quite a deep laceration to the top of your left thigh which we've taken care of, but our main concern regarding _you_..." Okay, he's being weird "...is the concussion you got. Things any clearer for you now regarding remembering what happened?" Carlisle asks me with hope clearly in his voice.

"I don't remembered what happened at all, just Charlie picking me up from the airport as planned. He brought my coat for me that you bought me last Christmas, Esme..." I smile at Esme "...You know how much I love that coat, it's so cosy... oh no, I didn't ruin it did I?" I ask with worry hitting me for not taking care of the gift given to me.

"Bella, it's a coat. Whatever has happened to it will be taken care of later. Please don't get yourself wound up over it. You need keep yourself as calm as possible. Stress is not good for someone in your condition." Esme doing her mom voice puts me in my place and makes me control myself quickly. _Yep, she sure does know what she's doing._

Carlisle clears his throat taking Esme's attention to him and she quickly finishes with, "So we'll get you a new coat if we need to."

"Sorry, you're right. Stress isn't good for anyone," I say feeling quite foolish.

"So, Bella you were at the airport and then what?" Carlisle's obviously on a mission here to hear about my journey from the airport.

"Well, as usual Dad wheeled my cases but we struggled this time because of all the stuff extra stuff I'd brought–" I was cut off by Esme.

"What extra stuff?" she asks sounding a little off.

"You know, all of my writing stuff and all most of my clothes – even though I can't wear most of them here ninety percent of the time – and of course all my school books." Esme's eyebrows are now way higher than they were earlier and I wonder what I've said wrong. "Oh no, I'm supposed to start school on Monday. Crap! What am I gonna do. It'll be hard enough starting a new school again with being behind and on crutches, but with Forks High being so small and everyone knowing each other already it's going to suck ass." Yes, I know I sound like a petulant teenager... I am one.

Realising there's total silence around me, I peek up to look at Esme's face to see how much trouble I'm in. Nope, not what I expected at all. Esme has her hand over mouth and she's blinking furiously willing the tears to magically disappear from her eyes and then glancing at Carlisle, I see a man that is stunned. Two different and very unusual reactions from this man in one day is disconcerting to say the least. It just does not happen with Carlisle. _I must be in the Twilight Zone or something._

Thinking quickly to get myself out of shit I blurt, "I'm so sorry for using that language just now. I know I promised to try not to swear in front of you, but it just slipped out. Uh, I was on a bit of a rant. My emotions seem to be all over the place right now."

Whilst carefully smoothing my hair back again Esme tells me it okay and not to worry about it.

"I'm just going to check you over Bella and then were going to see about getting that neck brace off if everything's okay."

I stupidly try to nod at Carlisle, pleased at having things move along at last. I just want to get this damn neck brace off then see about going home. I'm sure Charlie is at home trying to clean up and move anything that the crutches they'll give me will catch on, and more than anything, panicking at how he's going to look after me. Looks like Alice will be helping me shower.

Carlisle pokes and prods me in his usual doctor manner, thoroughly checking my neck and asking me questions like does this hurt? And can you feel that? Gradually moving his way down my body it's a little embarrassing partly because it just is with any doctor touching you even though it is in completely professional manner, and partly because it's Carlisle – the Mcdreamy of the real world. Soon to be Mcdreamy Senior when Edward becomes a doctor making him the new Mcdreamy to the nurses wherever he ends up working. _Shit, way to go with the inappropriate thoughts whilst you're being examined by your best friends father, Bella._

Carlisle seems to have finished checking in my ears, eyes and examining my head and neck and is moving down to my checking my shoulders and then announces we're taking the neck brace of to check my movement. Ecstatic... yep that's me.

I feel awkward that I can't move myself to help Carlisle and the nurse trying to move me enough to get the neck brace off, but obviously trying very hard not to move in case they cause pain or further injury. Their practised movements do them proud as my neck feels fine after it's off even if I'm a little stiff. I'm dying to move my head around a bit and stretch it out

"Just try to keep still a while longer, Bella. I just need to check your neck again without the collar." Carlisle puts a stop to my not-so-subtle-after-all movements instantly, and so I just give him a cheeky grin.

He gently feels my neck all over then again with firmer pressure always checking my reactions at each one. I'm relieved there doesn't seem to be any major or permanent damage. My head is tilted gently here and there, testing my movement. What I could really do with is a good rub down. _Focus Bella, you've never had a 'rub down', the closest to it was a massage on your calf muscle from Edward when you had cramp._

My head is tilted forward then so my chin touches my chest. I notice my left arm in a cast resting on a really thick pillow partially covering my body and then the wires coming out of the top of the hospital gown, obviously monitoring my heart etcetera. But more than anything I see my more than ample boobs that seem to have appeared since I last saw them. No wonder my chest feels heavy. I freeze and Carlisle instantly goes on alert asking where there's pain.

"Um, how long have I been asleep exactly?" I ask totally ignoring Carlisle's question.

"You're not in pain?" he questions back.

"Uh, no. No pain just aching at the moment. Pain meds obviously still doing their job..." Carlisle eyes me suspiciously "...I just need to move around a bit because I think I've been still for a long time."

"We'll try give you a little movement of parts that you can move at the moment when we've finished checking you over. You've been in the same position since last night, so you're bound to feel somewhat stiff," says Nurse Maggie.

I ponder over this new information of being in the same position since last night. Does she mean actually here in this hospital since last night or just the position because boobs don't just grow this big overnight unless you have fake ones and I'm an all natural kind of girl that has enough trouble balancing without extra weight on the front.

"Bella, I'm going to arrange a few things and get you your own nightwear and few other things to make you more comfortable. I'll be back soon sweetheart."

"Thanks, Esme. That's really kind of you. Could you find out where my bag is too?"

"Of course, I'll see what I can do," she says whilst backing towards the door with a smile on her face and her eyes flicking towards the corner I've yet to see. _Who is in that corner?_

Turning my attention back to Carlisle, I see he's moving towards the bottom of the bed. Although it's difficult for me to see due to the frame they have over my pelvis and tops of my legs keeping the weight of the blankets off me, I can see him pulling the sheet and blanket away from my feet and legs. Suddenly a figure darts across the room calling for Carlisle to stop. I'm more than confused at this point.

"Don't touch her feet. They're extremely ticklish and she automatically kicks out... her reflexes just kick in, but if you start from her calf muscle then move down she'll be okay. Obviously that's difficult with the cast, but here, let me show you."

Edward?

"Edward? What are you doing here?" He doesn't lift his head to look at me at all. Just carries on showing Carlisle how best to not make me kick out. How the hell does he know this? It can't be from just the calf muscle rub.

"Edward?"

"I'm just doing my job, Bella."

"Your job? Are you doing the ER rotation at the moment?"

Finally looking up at me with eyes that look full of hurt but still gloriously breathtaking, he frowns and mumbles, "Something like that."

This is just getting weirder by the minute and now my belly has decided to behave all alien like. It feels full and... gassy maybe? There's definitely something going on and I think need the bathroom or at least a good fart. God this is embarrassing. I try to feel my side through the blankets, but the damn needle thing in the back of my hand hurts like a bitch.

"Can you please tell me what's going on with my belly?" I look down at what I can see – which is basically nothing due to the frame under the blankets and the pillow my arm is resting on. Definitely weird. "I really don't want to be nicked named Belly Bella, so if you don't mind I'd rather get this sorted, like right now. Just someone help me to the bathroom so I can at least get rid of some of the pressure." Yes, I know I'm basically talking about farting to them but desperate times call for desperate measures. They're looking at me now with faces that scream confusion at me. Well, if they're confused how the fuck do they think I feel. Confusion turns to realisation that's turns to pity.

"Um, Bella..."

_Holy shit on a stick, I'm dying! They just don't know how to tell me._

"Seriously, just spit it out. Get it over and done with." I can hear my heart monitor starting to get a little faster. Carlisle glances towards it and then steps a little closer to me trying to give me a reassuring smile. It's not working.

"Is it a tumour?...it is, it's a tumour isn't it?..." my eyes are practically bursting out of my head now. "...is it something weird and embarrassing? That's why you don't want to tell me it's some strange gas problem that's gonna just explode or something..." Yes, I know I'm rambling. Yes, I know I'm panicking. But what the hell am I supposed to think. They are just staring at me looking as stunned as I feel. They're doctors. They are supposed to know these things.

"Bella, its not a tumour..." he grins, obviously trying not to laugh "and you don't have some strange gas problem either, so please don't worry about dying or um, exploding."

Now I feel a total ass.

Then I notice some shouting out in the corridor getting nearer to my room. The door to my room then bursts open and in strides Mike Newton.

"Hey babes, I was so worried about you."

"Oh uh, hey Mike."

_Wait! Babes...what the fuck? _Mike is already hugging me and kissing my forehead like it's the most natural thing in the world to him. I'm so confused and utterly fucking shocked that I can't move. I can't speak. Hell, I don't even think I'm breathing. I'm being punked aren't I. Any moment now Ashton Kutcher is gonna jump out with his big assed trucker hat on, and tell me to smile for the hidden camera 'cause they got me good. Cause really this cannot be happening. I wait. Wait a bit more. It seems like Mikes been hugging me for hours. I try to peek at the clock on the opposite wall. _I hate that fucking clock, the ticking is gonna drive me mad. _Nope its only been a minute or so. My eyes dart around the room over Mike's shoulder. _Well Ashton sure is taking his time...They obviously want more airtime._ I make my self smile so I don't look any more stupid than I already do. _Any second now._ Someone walks into my line of site. She looks familiar...but older. She's been crying. Her eyes are puffy. She starts moving closer to me & the tears start down her face again. _Must be part of the show...drag it out a bit more. Jeez couldn't they just stick in an extra commercial or something. Maybe have Demi make a guest appearance._

The hugging from Mike turns to something worse then. His tongue is in my mouth and I can't fucking do anything about. I can taste cigarettes and maybe even beer mixed in with some god-awful garlic shit. I can't breath, I think I'm going to vomit. _Somebody get this ass-hole off me!_

Thankfully, hands grab Mike's shoulders pulling him back away from me. There's more shouting, pushing and didn't Esme tell me no stress? To add to the overwhelming noise, the machines monitoring my various bits and pieces are going wild. I'm gasping from breath as I can't seem to find enough air. An oxygen mask is put on me and I just about see may favourite colour before...

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><p><strong><strong>^^^My idea of fade to black! ^^^<strong>**

****Next chapter is Edward's & he might be able to enlighten you all to what's been going on whilst Bella's been out of it!****

**Questions?**

**Theories?**


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